Saturday, 13 April 2013

The Peace Of Damocles

"Does not Dionysius seem to have made it sufficiently clear that there can be nothing happy for the person over whom some fear always looms?"

So did Cicero [1] describe the weight of holding a position of power and the constant fears it brings with it. The same fears keep anyone awake who carries great responsibility and worries. There's always this lingering fear of what might come next, spoiling any joy one could experience in life. Maybe that's why so many people in a position of importance seem to lose themselves in psychopathic, care-free behaviour. It's either that or to go insane.

No peace can be experienced and no joy felt until the sword is finally removed, although strengthening the attachment of the sword to the ceiling can help immensely with removing much of the fears. Similarly one can make life more bearable by reducing the strength and number of those fears which keep one awake at night.

Drawing parallels with my own situation, I can feel the burden of a few items crushing down on my shoulders; some more heavily than others, yet together enough to bring down a person less accustomed to bearing the pain.

What weighs most heavily on me at this point has to be that of the idiotic decision to start an impossible relationship which blew up in my own foolish face, leaving me with only legal recourse to get back the place I used to live in. A place which I could rightfully call my own for the very first time in my life and which I will not get back until justice has run its course. Every time I'm assaulted by the memories surrounding this and what occurred before I feel more tired of it all and more resentful to the person who happily inflicts this all upon me. I pray that this torture will end soon, somehow.

Beyond that weight there isn't just an assault on my home, but also on my very body and psyche. Next week I'll probably hear back from the surgeon I contacted this week about his thoughts on whether he can help me in any fashion with restoring my body to its intended state. Aside from three German and one Dutch physician I have had dozens of Dutch and foreign physicians and surgeons reject me in a number of rude manners. This all makes me beyond apprehensive about what the answer will be this time. I expect another rejection and the inconceivable pain and agony that accompanies it. I literally am risking my very life by gambling on this surgeon. Because I have to. Because I want to. Because there's no other choice. Because I still have hope. Because I'm desperate. Because I hope for salvation.

I still laugh a few times every day. I even feel somewhat joyful at times. Yet they're mere moments, instantly followed up by a feeling of loneliness, despair, sadness and fatalism. The best I can do is to laugh bitter tears at my own life, which I stumble through akin to a court's fool.

Here's to this fool turning into a bard.



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